


Intelligence

by freedomfrenzy



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Aromantic Character, But also, Not, aromantic John Reese, but i think this is it, flirting for the sake of intel gathering, idk what flirting looks like, kinda wanna tag this reese/finch, possible spoilers up to Identity Crisis (1x18), unrequited emotions of a kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-06 11:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomfrenzy/pseuds/freedomfrenzy
Summary: Finch keeps things very close to the vest. And John knows how to find things out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I've found a new fandom and must celebrate by writing queer fanfic. John Reese is a hecka chill aro and you cannot change my mind.

John keeps it low key to begin with. No one could fault him for following Finch, he’s just returning the favour. Somehow, despite having zero semblance of training, Finch picks up John’s tailing and shuts him down. 

His new employer doesn’t seem to care that John is attempting to solve him, so he steps it up. He gets the feeling Finch won’t take it well if John tries torturing information out of him- not even in the name of levelling the playing field- even if torture was an effective means of collecting intel. And besides, they are meant to be allies. So, he uses the softer touch: fear down, ego up, playing the long game. A playful retort here, a moment of sincerity there. He meets plenty of rebuttals, but every reaction tells him something. Even if it’s just how stringently Finch will protect his privacy.

The answer to that is very stringently. And he’s very good at it. But no one is unsolvable.

It becomes a game of one-upmanship. John finds Finch’s cover employment, ‘Harold’ disappears from the job. As soon as John thinks he’s uncovered something, Finch turns it into blanks and shadows and redactions. Revealing nothing more than what he wants to share. And yet. 

John is aware of the power balance here, knows Finch could cut him off if he so wanted. He could easily tip off the police or the government without risking himself in the slightest. Find someone else to take his place. John knows his own capabilities and they are extensive, but he’s far from invulnerable. Or Finch could stop calling. Tell him their association is at an end. He’d would probably take that option. Finch is disinclined to violence at the best of times, and whatever John feels about himself, he’s aware that Finch considers him moral enough to leave if asked. 

But Finch does none of these things. He refortifies every times John thinks they’re getting somewhere, reprimands him each time he catches John out, but he never shows any sign of wanting John to go. So, John continues pushing. It’s like a dance. He steps forward, Finch steps back, they return to position somewhere slightly left of where they were. As though John is the man at the bar, looking for a hookup, and Finch the target of his flirtations. 

And he is flirting. It’s all the name of the game when it comes to intel gathering for him, but he knows that memorising someone’s drink order is not an innocent gesture. It’s almost an investigation in itself; finding out how Finch reacts when he sees what John’s doing. Or what John wants it to look like he’s doing.

Finch doesn’t even flinch. The numbers keep coming and Finch keeps calling, leaning neither into nor away from John. It would be easy to think he hasn’t noticed, but John knows he has because he’s let John see it. It’s the way he holds John’s gaze for a few seconds longer when he’s made a more blatant pass, without interest or rejection, just awareness. 

It makes John wonders whether Finch is more like him than he lets on. 


	2. Analysis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to head after a night spent keeping Finch from vomiting his secrets all over the library. 
> 
> Takes place immediately after Identity Crisis (1x18).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, this did not entirely turn out the way that I wanted it. There's like, dialogue, which was unexpected.

Things come to head after a night spent keeping Finch from vomiting his secrets all over the library. Despite having to keep sending Finch back to bed, John rises early. He’s not sure what the comedown will be like, but if Finch has a bad one, there’s not much John can do other than manage symptoms. Which means coffee for him and tea for Finch.

John waits in Finch’s chair because he can. He's most of the way through a journal about artificial intelligence he’s been reading- mostly to see if it would get a rise out of Finch- by the time Finch limps into the work centre of the library. “Morning Finch,” he says, teasingly. “Have a good night?” His words help to conceal the examination he’s carrying out as his employer struggles in. Finch is in more pain than usual, but not enough to be a problem, and he looks tired. More than that, when he sees John sitting in his chair, he looks wary.

“Good morning, Mr Reese,” he replies, looking at a point somewhere over John’s shoulder. 

“How’s the comedown?”

“I believe I’m feeling a mild depression, but nothing that won’t pass.” John vacates the chair and Finch lowers himself into it carefully. "Sleep will help, but the Machine is more important. We should have a number soon.”

John’s eyes don’t leave Finch as he holds up the cardboard cup. “Tea?” He grins. “Something stronger?"

Now Finch is looking at him. “Mr Reese, at the risk of being considered ‘chicken’, I am going to have to ask you to stop whatever it is you are attempting.”

“What am I attempting, Harold?”

“An interrogation based on a manipulation of my affection. I’m sure you find the game quite amusing, however, I find that it is becoming a distraction.” He levels stern eyes on John over his glasses. “I don’t lie to myself either, Mr Reese.”

After so long scraping out fingernail holds on shreds of information, it takes John several seconds to process the amount of information in that statement. 

And thinks maybe he’s pushed this too far after all. Because Finch isn’t one for self-pity and that’s not what he’s saying. But nor is his voice quite as detached as it should be; a fraction too high, a touch more acerbic. 

John has been well trained to control his expression, but his mind is spinning gears without catching and Finch knows him well enough to see it. The surprise behind the blank face.

The worst part is that there’s no hurt reaction in return. Finch isn’t surprised by John’s surprise because he didn’t for a moment think that John was doing anything more than dig for intel. He wasn’t interested in Finch really, why would he be?

It stings because it’s close enough to true. 

Message delivered, confirmation received, Finch turns awkwardly back to his screens. Back to business as usual. 

Those embers of morality that Finch has been fanning flare unexpectedly.

“Finch- “

“That will be all, Mr Reese,” Finch says. The wall between them is back up and refortified. “I shall call you when we have a number.”

The conversation is over. But if John leaves now that will be it. There will never be another opening to address what he’s done. 

Time is ticking. It occurs to him that maybe there’s no way to come back from this. But no, there’s a way to start. “I’m sorry, Harold.” Even that feels wrenched from his throat. Apologies are not his forte. Admitting he was wrong…and yet it’s not enough. 

Finch turns his body to look at John again, and John automatically shifts to make for an easier angle on his employer’s neck. And when did that become habit?

Whatever Finch is looking for from him, he finds it. Enough, anyway, to crack open the door. “Sorry for what, John? It’s hardly your fault.”

That he did what he’s good at? That he insists on pushing candles through the shutters Finch keeps closing? That apparently, he’s encouraged his employer to…develop feelings? He’s not sure which one of them is crossing the line in this scenario, because he hadn’t considered it a possibility. 

“I hadn’t realised I was making this hard for you,” he says finally. Risks a brief smile, pained as it is. “I hear these can be hard.”

“The human heart is a mystery,” Finch allows. Somehow he still manages to make it sound like a lecture on Wall Street rather than a confession of his own weakness. “But I, for one, value our work far more than futile attempts to solve it.”

In other words, leave it alone. In other words, Finch will handle this on his own, which is something of a relief. 

In other words, their relationship is more important?

And the same is true for John, he realises. At some point, he has come to consider this paranoid, frustratingly reticent man a friend. This has become more than a job for them both, Finch proved that when he risked the work to save John’s life. 

John wonders if it’s time to leave. If, between friendship and whatever else, it might be easier for Finch to find a new enforcer. 

Finch is still watching, and once again demonstrates an eerily precise ability to read him. “I don’t regret hiring you, John. But if you want to leave, my offer still stands.” He turns stiffly back to the screens, hiding his face. Giving John the privacy to make a choice

Enough money to take him wherever he wants to go. A fresh start. John has seconds to make his decision, because if he waits too long the uncertainty will linger between them long into the future. 

He hesitates, but not because he isn’t sure of the decision to stay. Finch doesn’t like touch. But then, he’s not going to completely change his ways. John pats Finch’s shoulder briefly, leaning forward enough to lower his voice but not quite as close as flirtation would require. “Well it’s good you don’t have regrets, Harold, because I’m planning to keep this job.” He moves away before Finch can get uncomfortable, watching the tension wired through his painfully upright back. “Besides, I still haven’t worked out your address.”

The shoulders ease, almost imperceptibly but John sees it. He’s been trained to. “I suppose there’s no point telling you that I’m a private person, _again_.”

Not after last night, John almost says, but it reeks of sour memories and too much innuendo for such a fragile moment. He takes his coat from the stand and smiles at Finch as he pulls it on. “Not really.”

He considers staying, picking up the journal again and lurking until a number comes up. But he’s spent the night respecting Finch’s privacy and been handed his trust, it feels like the right thing to leave him to process their conversation in peace.

Finch will still have secrets to uncover tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm still working out exactly what I think Finch and Reese are and how they feel about each other. I'm leaning a lot towards aro ace-spec Reese and aro-spec ace Finch, which is a thought I developed *after* writing this. So let me know what you think about this dynamic and hey, what do you think of how these two interact because I would love to know what other people think!


End file.
